The Lives of Four
by Maukey
Summary: The lives of four soldiers in the First World World each in different positions tells their stories through their eyes. A Canadian, an American who happens to be positioned with the Canadians, an English man and a Dutch.


White Feather - Matthew's Story Part 1

The chilled air swirled around in a slight gust tossing around the golden coloured leaves around the young blond man's boots. He pulled up the collar of his coat before plunging his hands into his warmer pockets cursing the early winter breeze that disrupted the nice autumn day. Except for a group of strangers who chattered quietly about the grief of the war, the streets were rather empty yet even so he felt the need to duck through some alleys, whether it was a quicker route to get to where he intended to go or some other reason that led him. He could still hear the woman as one sobbed about her husband and another worried for her three sons. He paused as a cold sense chilled his blood and rushed through his body. His lungs seemed to clench the oxygen and hold it in causing his body to go rigid. His heart raced and is hands clenched and unclenched as he swallowed. Just thinking of the war terrified him. His friends had all too willingly signed up joking about how Matthew was a wee babe and too innocent for the war. They teased him about it and he took it. It was easier for him to think that he was simply too innocent for such gruesome terror than to admit to himself that he was frightened. He was frightened when most felt proud to serve for the honour and protection of their land and the commonwealth. He, well he chose to stay behind. Stay home while the other's faked their ages or eagerly stood in line and wrote their name on the sheet signing their own death warrant in his eyes. He was old enough to fight certainly, but his heart wasn't in it. He wanted to continue studying, continue living even if it was deemed cowardly through other's eyes. And he knew people thought it as his own father made it very clear on his thoughts on Matthew's choices, more like his disdain on Matthew's choices.

He took a breath, still clenching and unclenching as he tried to clear his mind of the thought of the war. However he was not granted the chance as he continued on his route. All along the brick alleys were splashes of colours from propaganda posters promoting the war, promoting the joining of the army , the glory and pride that one will get for fighting that attracted any passerby's eyes. On one, three silhouetted figures marched up a hill, guns fixed with deadly bayonets fixated ahead as the soldiers posed heroically. The pinkish background of the poster aided the black silhouettes in standing out as the banner read 'Your Chums are Fighting Why Aren't YOU?' Matthew shuddered at how the 'you' was underlined and bolded, feeling it strike home, almost as if it was mocking and judging him. His guilty gaze shifted to another that was just visible from the corner of his sight. Men on horseback was on this black and white one, the men seeming to come closer to the viewer. The one centered soldier looked off at a side angle, gazing through his binoculars as his steed looked the viewer straight on. 'Canadian Mounted Rifles' were displayed in huge black letters above the men, and just below it in smaller letters read 'Headquarters Hamilton, Ont.' Below in the black grass, this time in large white letters it read 'Quick Service Overseas' and in the right side read 'Canada's Rack Calvary Corps' with the large C of Canada being the C for all the rest of the words.

Matthew shook his head looking down at his feet as he continued walking back home no longer daring to look up or pause as guilt began building up like the steaming in a squealing kettle. It's all a ploy to get young and eager men fresh out of school, to trick promising boys with a bright future ahead of them into becoming mindless lambs to be lead by power hungry wolves to the slaughter. Wolves who will sit at home in safety at their desk, shiny new boots up on their desks as their lambs trudge on and on blistering their feet and wearing in their boots to the point that they walk their feet right off.

Matthew could almost hear the hooves beating, like drums, flattening the dead cracked earth under hoof as the men rode on. Hear the snorts of the horses as they shook their heads in hopes of preventing the flies from biting their necks and faces, their hair lightly hitting their strong necks. He could almost feel the sense of tension that hung over them, looming over like Death who lead them on strings either to safety or to heaven. He could almost smell the smell of horses. Of a stale cold air. Taste the faint taste of iron in water from a canteen that was warmed by the sun from the day long ride. Feel the ache in his ass and...

Suddenly he was jostled from his thoughts as collided with a smaller figure. His ears turned beet red as he fumbled for words looking up at the beautiful girl that stood before him, his tongue quickly trying to form an apology of some sort.

"Merde," he said looking at her before realizing that was the wrong word and turned even more flustered.

"Excuse me?" The girl quirked an eyebrow, her eyes looking at him as her arms wrapped around her chest loosely as the wind caused the edge of her dress to dance in the breeze. He felt his gaze wander down her body to stare at the dress before quickly adverting them realizing he was digging himself deeper into a hole.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention as to where I was going. It was entirely my fault, sorry." He fumbled for the right words, this time more satisfied with the end result.

"Oh no, it's no big deal really. Everyone seems a bit spacey as of late. Perhaps as of recent events or even just the colder weather. Don't worry over it," she gave a warm and reassuring smile to him before her expression quickly changed. It was at that moment that he had suddenly recognized her and felt a sudden sense of panic.

"Weren't you in one of my classes? Yes, you're that Matthew boy right? The one that was really good with science." She looked at him expecting to be right and he didn't know what to say. For a moment the thought of lying and saying that he was someone else ran through his mind. She tilted her head, her hair getting caught in her expensive earrings that glittered and sparkled.

"Yeah, that's me." Shit I should have lied was all he could have thought instantly regretting his choice of the truth.

"Oh, I thought you to be the type to have signed off." Here it comes, here it comes he thought over and over again stiffening from her words. "But then again you were always so cautious and quiet so I see why you wouldn't, I mean if I was in your shoes I would probably be doing exactly what you are. I mean just the thought is," she continued until another girl came skipping grabbing the other's shoulder causing her to squeak in alarm.

"Hey what are you doing? Flirting?" She teased, her voice obnoxious and grating to Matthew's ears. "Oh hey, I remember you, you're that smart science nerd." Matthew winced instantly remembering her. The one girl in the class that didn't take it seriously and must have paid under the table to have passed, the one that needed a real attitude adjustment. "Hey, shouldn't you be at war? With all the other able body men?" She hissed her demeanour changing suddenly as her lips curled into a twisted smile."

"Really, just leave the poor boy alone," he wanted to nod at the nicer girl's comment but he couldn't. He was frozen. Frozen by sheer terror. He felt like a baby bunny that had been flushed out of his den by rabid foxes and mother was nowhere near.

"What's your reason to be staying behind then huh?" She got closer her words like venom to Matthew's ears. His mouth once more tried forming words but he was caught and they wouldn't come out. No sound escaped his bumbling lips desperately, pleadingly, looking at the nice girl for help, for anything.

"Really, we ought to get going it's getting late and its cool," the girl tried taking her friend's arm but the obnoxious one wouldn't have any of it.

"You're not sick. You have a nice frame, a bit scrawny at the moment but really just a bit of muscle toning and you would do fine. Just because you got special attention in school doesn't mean that you can just let all the others fight for you. This war affects us all, it shouldn't take a smart kid like you to even figure that one out. Or were you just thinking of letting all the mediocre kids do the fighting since you're smart and more valuable."

"N-No, it's not that!" Matthew blurted, each one of her words hitting him hard and burdening him like a pound of iron that slowly drug him under into the dark abyss ocean of fear. His body seized in a cold panic as his heart raced and his lungs seemed to lock. His thoughts rambled through his head screaming to flee, that he couldn't fight, he couldn't fight, but his legs remained anchored there.

"My brother is fighting in that war you know. He at least knows what's right. He's at least brave. Unlike you, you're like an insult to all Canadians who are fighting overseas Coward." She quickly looked over at the other girl as if expecting her to do something, something Matthew dreaded. The girl looked down defeated from the more intimidating stare of the more obnoxious one before muttering a soft apology as her hands fumbled into her purse clicking it open and pulling out a small little tin. The more obnoxious girl snatched it from her, eyes eager and hungry as Matthew tried to give one last pleading look hoping it would reason with the girl. The little silver tin was plain, its lid hung from small hinges. The quiet girl stepped forward opening the tin and sighing.

"Matthew, for reasons that I am sure you will understand, I must present you with this," her voice was quiet and pained as she took what was in it and got close. Matthew took a sharp intake through his nose, smelling the scent of forest on her clothes and maple as she got close pinning on the pin before stepping back looking solemnly at him.

"I am so sorry,"

"Don't be he deserves it,"

He looked down and felt his whole world come crashing down. He should have lied about his name. He should have lied.

There pinned on his coat was a small white feather.


End file.
